BSoD
by PinkAxolotl85
Summary: The 'Blue Screen of Death' is the error that often displays after a very serious system crash. Heat build-up can damage an Androids hardware or cause it to become unstable and show a BSoD, becoming irreparably damaged in the process. Newer models will often shut down and refuse to operate if it reaches a potentially unsafe level of heat so it may be recoverable in the future.
1. Heat Sink

**Tags:**

 **Connor | RK800** ** & Hank Anderson**

 **Connor | RK800** **, Hank Anderson, Amanda**

 **Emetophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Conscious Medical Procedure, Non-Consensual Medical Procedure, Non-Consensual Touching, Autistic Connor | RK800, Severe Injury, Throat Trauma, Mouth trauma,** **Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks**

The 'Blue Screen of Death' is the error that often displays after a very serious system crash.

Heat build-up can damage an Androids hardware or cause it to become unstable and show a BSoD, often becoming irreparably damaged in the process. Newer models will often shut down and refuse to operate if it reaches a potentially unsafe level of heat so it may be recoverable in the future.

* * *

 **270+ comments, 500+ subscribers, 1,100+ kudos, 270+ bookmarks, and over** **16,500 hits** **on AO3!**

 **Bonus: We've got over 6,000 views here now too!**

 **Also: Cover art made by Jasper, it's for chapter six, view more of the art if you look at this on AO3.**

* * *

It takes place in-between parts of the canon story, where, I don't exactly know? Just? Somewhere in there. Probably sometime after or just before the Jericho team infiltrates the building and Connor and Hank have to investigate.

I put a thing out on Tumblr about how I was going to write this not really expecting much of a response but now it's got near 200 notes and I've had several messages about it. I'm super worried that it's been worked up too much and won't live up to expectations :'(

I don't want to sound whiny but it's been quite a bit of unexpected pressure and anxiety… I hope you like it.

* * *

 **Art for the story is now available but links cannot be placed on .Net so please find this story under the exact same name and account name on 'Archive Of Our Own' to view it :)**

* * *

I **highly** suggest you read this on **AO3 (Archive Of Our Own)** instead (It's under the same name). AO3 fully supports indents which all my fics are written with, blank lines, and pieces of art which add to the story, all these make the story much more appealing to read. It's also more easily read on AO3 as it's not the long block of text it is on here.

I'll keep updating on .Net because I know there are some people here that don't touch AO3 but just know that how you read it on this site **isn't** how it's supposed to read.

Thank you.

* * *

 **[Chapter One] Heat Sink**

A heat sink is a passive heat exchanger that transfers the heat generated by an electronic device to a fluid medium, often air or a liquid coolant, where it is dissipated away from the device, thereby allowing regulation of the device's temperature at optimal levels.

In Androids, heat sinks are used to cool its central processing unit. Heat sinks are used with high-power semiconductor devices, where the heat dissipation ability of the component itself is insufficient to moderate its own temperature.

* * *

– **EMERGENCY_RESTART_OF_ALL_SYSTEMS –**

 **MODEL :** RK:800 - Prototype_Mark_(V*5)

 **SERIAL# :** 313_248_317-55

 **BIOS 9.8**

 **REBOOTING…**

SUCCESSFUL

Memory_Chip_RECOVERED

LOADING_OS

 **SYSTEM_INITIALISATION**

Primary_Systems… : ONLINE

Secondary_Systems… : ONLINE

Tertiary_Systems… : ONLINE **}Possible_Errors**

Scanning_Biocomponents… : Fully_Functional

Initialising_Peropheral_Sensors… : /FAILED/ Non_Functional

Initialising_AI_Data_Chips… : Fully_Functional

 **MEMORY_UNIT_STATUS**

All_Systems_Semi-Functional… : Suspected_Corruption

…. **[** **GUNSHOT** – 154.8319 Decibels

/AudialGunshotRecording #136/ Sequence_Matching: ….

– Caused_by_VP9_9mm_handgun

Gun_triggered_by_ **LIEUTENANT_ANDERSON** –

 **!NO_DANGER_TO_SELF!**

No_Action_Required **]**

...

The bullet flew over him and to the right, hitting the Deviant in the back of its skull. Thirium sprayed down onto the ground before it fell to its knees.

The Deviants systems shut down, its LED darkened leaving it frozen where it knelt, thirium still dripping down its back.

' _Shit_. Connor‽'

...

 **[** Re-access /Automotive_And_Limb/ Systems ….

ACCESS GRANTED : Faults_Detected_In_Neurological_Wiring …. #0032 through #4582 **}Noncritical_Damage** **]**

...

Connors peripheral scans only came back corrupted, red jagged lines of coding and error filters instead filtered back to him. His eyes wouldn't focus.

His limbs didn't respond like he expected.

 _This isn't right._

A shadow was cast over him from the side but so few systems responded to the stimuli, it made him feel… Helpless... Blind. His eyes shifted slightly upwards but they refused to focus, leaving what he assumed to be his partner only a blurry figure.

'Fucking, God damn it, _get up_ Connor the other ones getting away.' He stopped for a moment, expecting some sort of update from the android but none arrived. 'C'mon, _Connor_!'

...

 **[** Re-access /Speech_Synthesiser/ Systems ….

ACCESS GRANTED : Faults_Detected_In_Primary_Manifold …. Blockage **}No_Damage_Detected** **]**

...

He opened his mouth and tried to talk using his speech synthesiser, but just like his diagnostics systems told him would happen no voice activated or spoke.

Nothing on his body reacted like he directed it. No physical damage could be felt, though.

So, it was all internal issues then, which is both worse and better than any possible damage from the outside. Complex internal damage could cause a cascade effect which could shut his systems down almost instantly and maybe even permanently.

 _He'd be written off._

...

 **[ Additional_Errors:** Wiring #4723 .8 .4 .32 .42.3

Wiring #8524 – #9241.41

Spinal_Nervous_Wiring_System **}Noncritical_Damage**

AI_Data_Chips #1 - #12 - #8 - #3 **}Minimal_Damage**

Memory_Recording_Unit **}Notable_Damage (Additional_Corruption_Suspected)**

 **23 More_Enteries …..**

} **No** _damage_to_limbs

} **No** _damage_to_torso

}HEAVY-DAMAGE_to_back_of_cranial_plating_severe_physical_trauma_suspected **}Critical_Damage_Advise_Nearest_Human_Immediatly**

Assistance_from_Human_heavily_advised_if_parameters_drop_below_acceptable_levels : Fixes_Required **}Extreme_Urgency ]**

...

Maybe not _everything_ is an internal issue then, but practically everything outside of the cranial damage.

But that is only a secondary worry at this point. Memory corruption is bad, very bad. How much had he lost? When did the memories he catalogued end?

Was it still the same day as his last readable one? Same week or month?

 _Same year?_

No. Lieutenant Anderson was still with him, that meant they were still partners. _The other one is getting away_ implies Deviants, plural, the latest case they'd followed suspected two Deviants as well and this is most likely not a coincidence.

When were they given that case?

...

 **[** Manual Input : /redefine_memory_corruption_as_moderate_within_/24hour(s)/_unless_further_developments_occur/

(Manual Input : /set_diagnostics_to_confirm_other_possible_memory_corruption_outside_/24hour(s)/_timeframe/

End_Manual_Input **]**

...

The fluid blocking his throat and flooding his voice system was most likely cooling liquid from his main processor, _not_ thirium, that means the safety sealant was broken.

The chances of simply overheating before he could create a workable path through his few functional systems was becoming an increasingly closer reality.

Lieutenant Anderson didn't seem extremely worried so there was probably no spilt thirium, humans tend to only worry when Androids start to 'bleed', which means pure blunt force trauma and no openings.

His partner seemingly giving up on catching the other Deviant went down on to one knee beside him, gun already holstered. He pushed the inactive Deviant away letting it collapse limply to the ground away from them.

Connor was laying on his stomach in the alleyway, left arm trapped beneath him and head rolled to the right revealing his flashing yellow LED. He was the picture of an unconscious human if one ignored the still open eyes and opening and closing mouth.

'Hey, are you good or what?' He clicked his fingers in front of Connors brown eyes, when Connor still didn't respond or even flinch he narrowed his eyes.

His LED was active and blinking so it's not dead…

Not really knowing what else to do Hank gripped the Androids shoulder and hip and pushed Connor onto its side, still facing him. Moving Connor's right arm under its head and bending its leg he left it in the recovery position.

When his partner still remained unresponsive his shoulders slouched and he groaned, running his hand through his hair. What was he thinking? Fucking recovery position for a fucking Android‽ How would that help it – Him? _It's not like he even needed to breathe._

He'd normally be checking _for_ the breathing, _or doing something,_ like calling an ambulance. But Connor's a fucking Android, he couldn't exactly phone up and say _oh no please come heal my Android who was stupid enough to get conked in fucking the head the instant I turned around._

….

He almost missed it, but there was Connors response, a quiet wet choking on the ground.

Blue-blood started to leak from his nose and the corner of his mouth, pooling just under his cheek. Or at least, it might be blue-blood? It didn't have the same consistency, more… Watery.

Connors LED was still on and as active as before so Connor wasn't in full recovery mode, which was… Good? Or maybe it was bad, recovery mode existed for a reason after all.

...

 **[** Manual Input : /Reroute_Automotive_And_Limb_systems_(to)_secondary_input_lines/ ….

REROUTE SUCCESSFUL … Semi_Operational **]**

...

Okay, this worked just as planned.

Normally input signals would run down the spinal nervous wiring but since those wires were disrupted where his head and neck met he had to get creative, running the signals down the secondary power unit lines instead.

Not as effective or sensitive but it was workable in his condition, and it was his only current option.

He clenched his right hand into a fist first to work out the reaction and input times. It moved almost a whole second after he wanted it to. It would be like that for the rest of his body too so he better buckle up for this experience.

Is this what dread feels like? _It's not a nice sensation._

He dragged his arms and legs forwards and under him, pushing himself up and onto his hand and knees. A warm hand on his back followed him up. Cooling liquid started to flow out faster, his body finally trying to flush the foreign substance out of systems it wasn't ever meant to touch.

The back of his throat seized up and he lurched forwards heaving and coughing.

More of the pale fluid spilling onto the ground and dripping down his chin.

He had a feeling that if he'd been human he would be light headed at this point. Lieutenant Anderson backed up slightly but still remained close and… Oddly silent, Connor noted.

The quick forward motion pulled at the wiring in the back of his neck, the secondary lines caught and the signal interrupted. When the heaving sensation finally subsided, he couldn't pull himself back or up, instead slowly tipping forward, eyes closing.

He didn't hit the ground like he expected, an arm instead moving over his chest and shoulders, and another over his back, both were keeping him supported.

' _Shit_ , kid, keep those eyes _open_.'

...

 **[** Instructional_Input : /Eyes_Open_Until_Advised_Otherwise/ …Finish **]**

...

Eyes now open he was forced to stare blankly at the ground, they didn't focus anyway so there was no helpfulness in them currently. Even if they were functional, visuals from the eyes make up barely fifteen-percent of an Androids total visual inputs.

Most visual data came from peripheral scans using bodily sensors which were picked up by a specific AI Data Chip which was… Connor automatically went to scan his surroundings but it was all still corrupted it seemed.

There were more important things to fix first.

It was better to work on rerouting internal issues; Lieutenant Anderson could visually guide him until he got around to trying to fix his eyes.

...

 **[** Manual_Input : /Speech_Synthesiser/ Systems_Functional _(Query) ….

(Query_Response) SYSTEMS_FUNCTIONAL : No_Further_Abnormalities_Detected **]**

...

'Are you good or do I need to get your shiny ass to some fucking specialist back at the station?'

Harsh buzzing and static came out of his voice synthesiser at first but after a few seconds it made way for proper words, 'No, Lieutenant, I am working within functional parameters. I am fine.'

The way his mouth didn't align with the words didn't really support his statement in the Lieutenants eyes.

'Uh huh, okay, we're going back to the station anyway. We lost the other Deviant after you managed to get yourself knocked out.'

 _That's my fault, I failed, but…_

'Why did you not chase the Deviant without me? You would have most likely caught up to it.'

The arms around him finally pulled away, luckily his systems had finally caught up slightly and he managed to save himself from falling completely. His only sign of discomfort was the small hiss when his shoulders and arms jolted against the ground.

The lieutenant had walked off, where, Connor didn't know, he just hoped he was still close.

...

 **[** Manual_Input : /Peripheral_Sensors/ Physical_Functionality _(Query) ….

(Query_Response) SYSTEMS_FUNCTIONAL : Physical_Peripheral_Sensors_are_ACTIVE **]**

Manual_Input : /Peripheral_Sensors/ Systems_Functional _(Query) ….

(Query_Response) SYSTEMS_NONFUNCTIONAL : Corruption_Of_AI_Data_Chip_Suspected

Manual_Input : /Previous_(Query_Response)_Confirmation/ System _Corruption_Confirmed (Query)

Inputting…

…

…CONFIRMED : Sytem_Corruption_Of_(Query Response) **]**

...

Damn, internal issues for that too. Too much to ask for it to be just broken or torn sensors on the skin. That'd be too easy fix apparently.

Lieutenant had something in his hands he could hear it, the gun, he was reloading it but he didn't put it away, still looking over it. 'Are you coming or what? So help me if you just collapse here I'm going to have a fucking aneurysm.'

 _There was no way Connor had enough coordination to get up like this._

 _Could he even walk?_

 _Guess he'll find out._

'I require assistance lieutenant.' He didn't like this, but his partner seemed to listen at least, putting the gun away.

He was pulled up almost instantly, his feet almost slipping from under him. Sensing his partner's imbalance, Hank pulled Connors right arm over his shoulder and his own hand around his waist, letting Connor lean on him fully.

'What are you fucking eighty? How come you can't do this yourself, the Deviant _can't_ have hit you _that_ hard with the gun.'

'Too few of my systems remain active for worthwhile coordination. My spinal wiring has been practically severed leaving me to patchwork together secondary data chips and wiring from other systems to act as bridges to continue my normal function'

Connor dipped his head to the side and spat out what was left of the cooling liquid in his mouth. He's glad he couldn't see the Lieutenants expression.

The Lieutenant started walking forward, after stepping over the inactive Deviant he let Connor set the pace for the both of them. He stumbled the few steps, everything working just _slightly_ too slow to be normal. After a few more tripping steps he relented and let his partner carry practically all his weight.

It helped but his feet still dragged and head fell loosely to his chest.

He didn't want to worry the lieutenant but it had to be asked; 'May I inquire as to what happened to me to cause such damage?'

The answer was slow, 'You don't remember? You got an Android concussion or something?'

'My memory unit has become corrupted in certain places, yes. When were we assigned this case?'

'Almost… Six days ago now.'

 _Oh…_

'Oh.'

….

The conversation didn't really start again until they exited the alleyway, making their way onto the street past the first respondent police that were heading the way they just left.

It was starting to get pretty dark.

 _What time was it?_

More cooling liquid trickled down onto his lip, he was quick to wipe it away with the sleeve of his still free arm. It was starting to slow now which was good, his systems were automatically rerouting and protecting itself.

'What exactly is that stuff you're leaking? It's not blue-blood, I at least know _that_.'

'It is cooling liquid from my processor, a mix of water and ethylene glycol, I advise you not get any on you.'

'Processor…' He turned off the pavement and over a crossing, ignoring the red stop sign. 'Don't you need that stuff?'

'Yes, it is vital to my not overheating. The longer I stay online and the less I have the higher chance I have of shutting down.'

' _Connor_. Why the fuck did you tell me you were _okay_ when you're clearly fucking _not_. You can get a new body but if your processor corrupts…' He didn't want to finish the sentence.

'I am fully aware of the risk but I am functioning well within functional parami–'

'Functional parameters _whatever_ , you're leaking brain stuff so c'mon _walk faster_ you stupid fucking tin can. Cars just around the corner.'

Somehow everything was becoming blurrier as the neon signs of stores and streetlights finally blinked on.

...

 **[** !WARNING_OVERHEATING!

 **!WARNING_OVERHEATING!**

 **!ALERT_NEAREST_HUMAN_IMEDIA –**

...

He staggered heavily, completely losing his footing.

'Fuck, Connor!'

Hank was completely unprepared for Connor to fall, he was active and talking and then shutting down a second later. Somehow, he managed to stay standing, and with great effort, he pulled Connors limp form back up.

More of that stupid cooling- _whatever_ was dribbling from his mouth.

Bad.

 _Bad._

 _That's bad._

'No, no, _no, no,_ _ **no**_. Connor?' His LED was still active so he's just offline, _not dead_. The car's right there, come on.

Connor was miming trying to walk a few moments before, probably just an automatic response to movement, but now he was a complete dead weight. He pulled him up into a bridal carry and strode the last couple of feet to the car.

 _Is it bad that he was kind of happy nobody was around to see this?_

'Fuck, I'm too old for this...'

Practically slamming the car door open he tried the best he could to get Connor into a semi-workable position, pushing him back into the chair to get the seatbelt around him.

He's not normally one for seatbelts but he'd rather not have Connor fall on him whilst he's driving. He slammed the door closed and when he got into the driver's seat Connor had already fallen into the window.

It would be kind of funny if it had happened _any_ other time.

The thought made him feel…

He tried not to dwell on it as he slammed his foot down on the accelerator.

* * *

...

Autistic Connor because I'm autistic and I'm fully willing to fight you on this.

Careful Hank, your compassion is showing.

I really hope this doesn't read as pointless as I think it feels.

(Sorry for mistakes, they'll probably be fixed soon because I always seem to find them only after I post it + it's midnight and I really want to get this out because I'm tired.)


	2. Kirschner Wire

**Tags:**

 **Connor | RK800 & Hank Anderson**

 **Connor | RK800, Hank Anderson, Amanda**

 **Emetophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Conscious Medical Procedure, Non-Consensual Medical Procedure, Non-Consensual Touching, Autistic Connor | RK800, Severe Injury, Throat Trauma, Mouth trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD**

The 'Blue Screen of Death' is the error that often displays after a very serious system crash.

Heat build-up can damage an Androids hardware or cause it to become unstable and show a BSoD, often becoming irreparably damaged in the process. Newer models will often shut down and refuse to operate if it reaches a potentially unsafe level of heat so it may be recoverable in the future.

* * *

There's OC's here but honestly, don't think anything of them. I tried to minimise their input as much as possible but I needed mechanists and there were no canon characters to fill the job. Now onto the story. Mind the new tags, please.

I'm sorry Connor :'(

* * *

I **highly** suggest you read this on **AO3 (Archive Of Our Own)** instead (It's under the same name). AO3 fully supports indents which all my fics are written with, blank lines, and pieces of art which add to the story, all these make the story much more appealing to read. It's also more easily read on AO3 as it's not the long block of text it is on here.

I'll keep updating on .Net because I know there are some people here that don't touch AO3 but just know that how you read it on this site **isn't** how it's supposed to read.

Thank you.

* * *

 **[Chapter Two] Kirschner Wire**

Kirschner wires are sterilized, sharpened, smooth stainless steel pins. The wires are widely used in orthopaedics and other types of medical surgery, including work in Android fixtures in more recent years.

They come in different sizes and are used to hold bone or metal fragments together or to provide an anchor for skeletal/frame traction. The pins are often driven into the bone or internal frame through the skin/metal using a power or hand drill.

They form part of the Ilizarov apparatus. (Look this story's part of a series called Ilizarov Apparatus on AO3.)

* * *

CyberLife walk-ins were dotted everywhere in Detroit. There was apparently no end of malfunctioning or broken units or units that needed 'booster shots' aka extra patched data updates to 'fix' them.

Hank didn't even know Androids had upgrades after their models were released, but it made sense once he found out they did. He knew this because since Connor was forced into being his partner he'd also been pushed into learning the exacts of how an Android worked.

It wasn't really a concern at first. Sometimes Connor would come in forcefully chipper as normal and other times he'd come in sluggish, half his processor's resources working on integrating and adding new coding that'd been imposed on him.

Then he'd grown to hate it, each time Connor came back he just felt slightly less human, if that's even possible. Apparently, all this new coding that made him more efficient also took up a lot of room, room Connor didn't have, so the techies had decided _well it doesn't_ _ **need**_ _to know how to recognise sarcasm right?_

 _It doesn't_ _ **need**_ _to know how to share or ask for input._

 _It doesn't_ _ **need**_ _to fully recognise time since it'll always have a partner with it._

 _It doesn't_ _ **need**_ _to know how to fully express emotion since it's only there to complete a mission._

 _It doesn't_ _ **need**_ _to recognise large concepts or theories, just make it add more statistical input._

 _If anything, that'll make it more efficient._

Connor just felt so emotionally fragile now. The Android was an amazing detective but the better he got at accomplishing cases the worse he got at conversing with others.

Hank already had to step in to take over when Connor simply got overwhelmed by one than one person talking to him at a time.

So much effort was being put into keeping his 'updates' and systems working that even keeping up with a conversation was now becoming a harder task to accomplish.

He just let Hank do _all_ the talking now.

It was just… Awful.

Just plain awful and he'd known he shouldn't care for a fucking Android of all things, but he couldn't really help it when Connor was the only thing he'd talk to about _normal_ non-detective stuff on a daily basis. Now Connor could barely accomplish that and it was just _hard to watch his partner wither away._

When he'd ran into the CyberLife walk in all he'd had to do was flash a badge and he was allowed into the back were all sorts of Android specialists were working on repairing the Androids already there.

One had a soldering iron in an Android eye, another picking through internal wiring in a hand, yet another with a whirring drill replacing the missing teeth of an Android.

He didn't want them to touch Connor but hadn't had another choice.

Once they'd been notified of who he was they took Connor from his arms and wheeled him away behind doors. He left just standing there, a few people still working on Androids behind him, taking up the places of the ones that just left.

'Sir? You're the one who brought in that new Android, right?' The man beckoned him to follow and for once Hank did so without complaint. They walked through another set of doors down a narrow corridor.

'Uh, yes, he's – It's called Connor.'

'We need to make sure it's being fixed to the right specifications for your department. It's much more advanced than Androids we normally have to fix. First of all; what happened to it? The entire backing processor is crushed and practically drained of all its cooling fluid, that's serious damage.'

'Specifics are classified but it was hit pretty fucking hard.'

'Yes…'

He was led into a white room with several other people waiting there, most looking either annoyed or tired. A few magazines were strewn across a coffee table in the centre.

What time was it again? It was pretty late when they walked into that alley, it was probably morning at this point.

He pulled out a pad from his pocket, pieces of coding and messages blinking on it. 'In all honesty, at this rate, it'll just be easier just implant what's left of its systems coding into a new body, some of its memories will be corrupted due to the nature of the damage but it'll be better off.'

A pad with a signature opening screen was given to him, the same one he'd had to sign several times before, an agreement for a new body for Connor. Fully paid for by the department. How did they get it here so fast?

It was nudged towards him again. 'You'll need to sign off on that, sir.'

'NO… No. It… Needs its memories fully intact,' because every time he comes back he's even more different than when he gets his 'upgrades', 'It needs them intact for the investigation, you better be able to fix it.'

The employee in front of him didn't seem to notice his hesitation or irritation as he drew back the pad, switching its screens back to the coding from before.

Smiling, he answered. 'I completely understand, you should be happy to hear we've already got a message to the main police station. They said basically the same.'

'Ah, here's the diagnostics.' He let out a low whistle.

'I don't want to keep you here long so you get a brief rundown. A lot of processors are corrupted but a specialist is being sent by the department to fix it specifically. Parts of the 'skull' and processors punctured through the roof and back of its mouth, that's why it was losing so much cooling so quickly, it basically turned into a sieve… Damn. Its neck was practically broken too, but don't worry we already have a plan to fix that.'

 _Hank felt sick._

'Should I tell you the price to fix it or does your department cover that?'

He didn't answer instead collapsing into a seat and waving the man off, his cheerful attitude made him want to punch something.

He _wasn't_ worrying, they said Connor's going to be fine.

If only Connor hadn't convinced him not to bring that fucking canteen of whiskey.

 _Fucking prick._

* * *

– **EḾER̶̡GENCY_R̛̕ES͟͜͠TAR̷̡̀T_͟OF_ALL_SY͘ST̵̡̛ȨM̨̕S –**

 **MODEĹ͟:̶̷̧** Ŕ̸̷K:800 - P͞r̢o̧t̷o̕ty̡p̨e_̵Mark_(̷V͝*5̸)͠

 **S̷̕͟E̴͞RIAL# :** 313_24̧̛8̵_317̨͢͞-55

 **BI̸̧̛OS 999.9…99͞99̸̨….88.8**

 **REBOOO̵͝͠O**

 **͞O̴͏͡OOO҉͜͏Ǫ̧͞Ơ͘͢Ơ̸̕Ó͢OO̶͞͡OƠ̯̪̖̻̮̠̤͞O̴̢̤͈O̪͓͍͙̠̩̺̗̫͖̪T́͝҉I̵̴NG…**

ER͟͜R̴͜͝OR

Memory_Chip_ E̶Ŕ̢͢R̡OŔ̡͜

EŖ̕͜ROŔ͢͝_LOADING_OS

 **SYSTEM_I̴͜N̡̛͞IT̕͢I̧͏Á̵͝L̷̨ISATION**

Primary_Systems… : EŖ͟R̵̴͞Ǫ͞R̀́͞

Seconḑ̶͢a͠r̀͢y_̧͞Systems… : ERR̛͘OR

Tertiary_Syst̨e̵̵̢ḿ̶̢s͟…̸̡ : ͡É͝Ŗ̶RRŔ͢R̶̛͜Ŗ̴RǪ̴͟R̛

Sć͞͠an̷̷͡ní̶n̷ǵ̨̀_Bi̷ǫ̡̧components… : ER̷̷R͜͞O͘͞Ŗ͟

Initialising_Peropheral_Sensors… : E͢͏R̨̀RRƠ̡͞OR

Initialising_AI_͜D͏̡͟a̧͢͡ta_Chips… : É͜͡EŔOR̛R̕

 **MEMO̴͘R͘͜Ý_UNĮ̴̧IIIT͟͠ _STATUS**

E̶͢RROR̢͜͜R̴͟͡

Shallow voices surrounded him, whispering in his systems yet sounding like screams in his audials all the same. No visuals or sensations greeted him, he couldn't move his body but he could feel it, lying flat on his back, an arm on his right side.

'Okay… First attempted reboot since heat induced shutdown at eight-forty-two pm, Saturday the second, reboot is at two am Sunday third. Its systems are online but the main processor _isn't_.' It was woman's voice, it sounded aged but still young…

Red jagged coding errors lanced into his processor but no pain accompanied the signals.

'Its temperature is holding steady at 6 degrees celsius, optimal conditions. Thirium regulator is at 68%. Thirium internal pressure is 120 over 70.'

The woman quietly hummed over him for a moment before speaking once more, 'Electrical pulses _seem_ to be regular in nature, though, keep a chart on it, for the time being, George, Alex.'

 _/Why._

 _Where._

 _Time_(Query)_

 _W͢͡hà̶̀t́͠/_

Systems around him started to whir and beep and alarm and spike and

'What does that mean? Is that bad? That's bad, right?' The voice was nervous, young, wobbly, male.

'It means it won't be onlining for a while yet. There must be something we missed… George, hand me the diagnostics report again and keep your mouth _closed_ , you're my _assistant_ I don't want to hear another peek from you.'

'Um, yes _ma'am_.'

Metal clicked against fake nails. The hums of electronics surrounding him.

 _/Query_Hank/_

'Uh, ma'am.' the words stumbled, 'Its systems are showing a spike of activity in the data processors.'

The hand left his side,

 _/Come_back…/_

'Hmm, that's interesting. Its activity is only placed in the left processors and AI units, you recording that? Good. It's not cacheing anything unless it has caches in this side too, I mean to hell with it, if it can work with basically half a brain then sure I guess it can do that too. Don't add that.'

'It can't sense _us_ , though, _right_?'

'If it's active then it's going to be _trying_ to. I don't know if it'll accomplish it, but I mean, the fact it's even fucking online right now is outstanding. Don't add that either.'

…

'Oh, don't give me look, you're a fucking intern what the fuck do you know, huh? Plus, I told you to be _quiet_.'

…

'Look, if it's in a semi-online state and listening it's going to be _barely_ fucking coherent, honestly, don't worry about it.'

 _/Talking_about_him?_

 _Him?_

 _ **Him**_

Define_(Him)/

'No response to external stimuli.'

Sharp nails were dragged up over his neck, tipping his head back and exposing his throat. A finger ran over his lips.

A machine next to him started to whirr faster and faster and faster

 _and faster_

'Disregard my previous comment. Lower processor functions are active, nothing more of its higher processors appear to be, however. It's still safe to work on.'

Connors' head was moved back into a neutral position, lips still burning with sensation. Heels clicked on the floor away from him and towards shuffling leather ones.

Another young female voice struck his audials. 'What model is this?'

A moment later the voice spoke up again, muffled, turned away from him. 'An RK: 800? … That's that new police prototype. What the hell is it doing _here_? This thing costs a small fortune!'

Fingers clicked above and to the side of him but not _too_ him. 'Hey, Alex, come help me again will you, stop fussing over its specification sheet, I've already got it jotted down.'

There was quiet grumble, 'What do you need done?' The voice quickly melded into worry, 'Did its ventral lines burst?'

'No, no, just give me a second.'

Something sharp was pushed into his wrist port, skin and plating opened revealing wiring and openings. Thirium began to be automatically drawn into the tube.

The port let out a harsh hiss when it was dislodged and was closed up, trying to rebalance the internal pressure. Only moments later did the tubing let out another shrill long beep. Even blinded, practically deafened, and sensitivity on his plastic skin at its lowest settings he could still feel the tension in the room rise drastically.

'Okay, new thirium coming ASAP _don't worry_.' She continued.

The heeled lady span around, 'George, go and instruct its owner in the wait bay, please. Tell him it'll be maybe two or three hours before he can come see it outside of the reconstruction bay and another 7-ish hours before he can leave with it. If he wants to see it now tell him its fine and escort him here to behind the glass.'

'Okie-Dokie.'

Doors slid open and shut as the man's footsteps got increasingly muffled.

 _/Whirring_faster/_

'Can you please check its manifold? Make sure the metal is binding correctly? I don't want it crack to open again whilst I'm collecting the extra thirium.'

'Yup, I'll notify you if its systems change drastically.'

Heels clicked away, though even once she'd gone the sharp clacks remained echoed in his audials.

His mouth was forced open, metal clamping and _grinding_ around his lower teeth, making flakes of hard plastic fall away into his mouth. Pressure was forced harder and _harder_ down onto them, the plastic beginning to distort.

Another piece was placed over his tongue keeping it flattened.

 _/Stop/_

Further straight pieces of metal were forced onto his upper jaw, compressing the back of his mouth roof and pushing on the tips of his front teeth, driving them further back and back…

The lower metal jolted down forcing his mouth open wider, jaw sensors sending the first uncomfortable signals. It _ached,_ telling him to stop it, get away but being unable to.

With his jaw locked open fingers wrapped in latex gloves slid down his throat, rubbing against the back as it caught on newly placed metal. Gag reflexes activated, trying to stop further intrusion, stop possible damages.

 _/Please/_

The heaving sensation came back, throat tightening and spasming, more of the leftover cooling liquid welling up and trickling down the side of his mouth again, spilling onto the table under him.

 _no, sir that's just an automatic response reaction_

Head pushed back the two fingers were allowed more room and were forced down further, the person's thumb bracing on his lower molars. Manually rubbing valves and locks open the deeper they went. _The closer they got to his voice synthesiser._

A further piece of metal wiring accompanied the fingers, digging in lower and sending minute shocks every second until it nudged the synthesiser. Metal tapping metal loud in his audials.

He desperately tried not to focus on the sensation, but it still remained, screaming at him at every poke and prod, making his throat constrict more and himself audibly gag around the items shoved in.

'Damn, coppering's come loose again. Fucking new models.'

 _/ /Please can I open my eyes?/ Query –_

 _Query/_

 _no, it's not in any pain please don't worry_

Finally, the metal wire was drawn out. The two fingers were pulled back too, now cool and sticky fluid and lubricant still connected from his mouth to them until the person wiped them down on… Something.

The rest was wiped away from his cheek.

The metal clamps still weren't removed.

 _His LED would have flashed red as the needle was pushed directly up into his throat._

 **!SHUT̵̴͝ ̸̨D̡́͟O̵W̨͘Ņ ̶͢͡NÒ̕Ẁ͟!**

* * *

Honestly, that scene with the throat even made me gag whilst writing it so I hope it wasn't too vivid, but it was supposed to pretty disturbing so I hope I did it right! *sweats nervously*

Okay, fuck, you may notice the 2/? In the chapter section, this was supposed to be only two chapters but you know what fuck it, my mind said it needed more time to do what it wanted so here we go. I don't expect it to go over 4 chapters but honestly, I don't even know what my mind is thinking/wants anymore so I'm leaving it as a (?)


	3. Amygdalohippocampectomy

**Tags:**

 **Connor | RK800 & Hank Anderson**

 **Connor | RK800, Hank Anderson, Amanda**

 **Emetophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Conscious Medical Procedure, Non-Consensual Medical Procedure, Non-Consensual Touching, Autistic Connor | RK800, Severe Injury, Throat Trauma, Mouth trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD**

The 'Blue Screen of Death' is the error that often displays after a very serious system crash.

Heat build-up can damage an Androids hardware or cause it to become unstable and show a BSoD, often becoming irreparably damaged in the process. Newer models will often shut down and refuse to operate if it reaches a potentially unsafe level of heat so it may be recoverable in the future.

* * *

Oh boy, this chapter was a nightmare. After a lot of time and thinking, I outlined this chapter but didn't have any motivation to write for it. Then someone sent me a piece of art for the first chapter and it was the final boost I needed to write the rest :)

Either my try at inciting emotion™ is going to succeed and be amazing or fall flat and ruin the entire chapter there's no in-between. I'm so sorry.

* * *

I **highly** suggest you read this on **AO3 (Archive Of Our Own)** instead (It's under the same name). AO3 fully supports indents which all my fics are written with, blank lines, and pieces of art which add to the story, all these make the story much more appealing to read. It's also more easily read on AO3 as it's not the long block of text it is on here.

I'll keep updating on .Net because I know there are some people here that don't touch AO3 but just know that how you read it on this site **isn't** how it's supposed to read.

Thank you.

* * *

 **[Chapter Three] Amygdalohippocampectomy**

Amygdalohippocampectomy is a surgical procedure for the treatment of epilepsy. It consists of the removal of the hippocampus, which has a role in memory, spatial awareness, and navigation, and the amygdalae, which have a role in the processing and memory of emotional reactions, both structures forming part of the limbic system of the brain.

Amygdalohippocampectomy is used only when all other treatment options have failed.

It is an effective treatment for most patients. However, possible adverse side effects include impaired memory and defects in visual perception.

* * *

When he was directed to the viewing room he wasn't sure he could stomach it, but he had to anyway… For Connor.

He'd walked in and Connor was face down and already opened up, shirt, jacket and tie hastily folded and placed in the corner of the room.

He watched on from above, the viewing room raised above the theatre below, probably to stop viewers from distracting the repairs.

The way they worked on Connor was… Disturbing.

They didn't talk about him or work on him like a patient, instead, they acted like he was a fucking car or something. Admiring the pieces of machinery they saw and chatting happily whilst sparks flew from his broken wires.

His LED was removed, the wires that used to be connected to it were instead dragged out and connected to a system with diagnostics listings. Connors synthetic 'skin' overlay or _whatever_ was nowhere to be seen, pristine white plastic and metal taking its place.

They were jostling him roughly, pulling and pushing on parts. Cutting through wires with scissors and connecting new ones with a smoking soldering iron.

Yet at the same time, another was making tiny tweaks in the main processor with a pair of tweezers, then instantly checking the diagnostic array before doing the same again.

It somehow looked both brutal and time-consumingly delicate.

Skull plating was removed, revealing the slightly smoking electronics underneath. Parts from it looked missing, that made sense considering the numerous obviously burnt mechanical parts and what looked like data chips on a side medical tray.

His neck down to his mid-back was opened, metal and 'skin' peeled back, his spinal joints and the wiring that threaded through it clear to see. According to the people that part was going to be the easiest to fix…

 _He'd never looked less human._

 _This was Connor._

This Connor was the one he'd been around the most, the Mark V, the fifth one down the line. A copy, of a copy, of a copy, and he hadn't even met or known the first one.

That's what Connor was.

 _Endlessly replaceable._

Did Connor know that? No, it was obvious he did, it'd be stupid if he didn't.

Did he care though?

When Hank first met Connor, he would've replied _of course not,_ in Connor's eyes he was only a machine and accepted that he was replaceable. But after the weeks he knew him, talked to him, Hanks opinion became more and more clouded.

There was something different about Connor, it was obvious even if it wasn't to the Android himself. Hank doubted he was a full Deviant, at least not yet. But an Android on their way to becoming one?

Almost certainly.

Or maybe Connor was just super advanced like he said and was doing what he was designed to do; mimic and emulate emotions to come to better conclusions and integrate himself more seamlessly with the outside world.

Hank drew his right hand out of pocket and placed it loosely on the glass screen as if doing it would help Connor in some way. Tell him it was okay.

Tell him that he was there… For him…

Coding and blue lights lit up around his hand from the glass screen.

When another person walked in they looked much more official, case by their side and wearing a clean black suit. The people working on his partner looked overjoyed to see him, practically up and leaving Connors side to shake hands with and gush over this new guy.

He'd seen his face before… In the news and shit.

Must be that coding specialist they said they were sending in.

 _He looked like an utter fucking_ _ **dick.**_

Hank couldn't stop the beginning of a sneer as he strode out, almost knocking over the poor boy who was leaning on the doors to the viewing room, the same one that had spoken to him before.

The boy caught himself and span around, readjusting his glasses, he looked like he wanted to say something to him, probably something along the lines _what the fuck are you doing?_ But stumbled the words at the last second, instead putting on that irritating, _so very_ happy smile again.

'You're not going to be overseeing its repairs, sir?'

He barged past the boy, long past caring. 'No, your guys seem to have a perfect handle on everything.'

'Oh, well I'll be going to the Android mechanical bay theatre to help with the repairs then. Please, stay in the waiting bay so we can tell you when it's going to be reactivated.'

Hank grunted in acknowledgement but the instant the boy had turned around he went to wait in his car.

There was a pub just around the corner. Of course, he knew there was a pub around the corner.

Hank, the fucking washed up alcoholic detective who's only remaining 'wow' factor was how fast he could sober up after years of heavy drinking experience.

What time was it? Turning the car on and then the middle system it showed eleven-twenty-three pm. That's, what? Two, three hours after they'd both walked into that warehouse chasing Deviants?

It didn't feel like it had been that long.

The pubs are still open at this time.

Despite everything in his body telling him to go, go and get drunk and forget about this whole thing, something stopped him.

At first, it was rational; You can't go they'll still need you to sign stuff, Connor needs to report back to the station and he can't get there without you, surprise costs have to be paid on hand (even if the money was later refunded by the department.)

But then…

 _What would Connor think of you?_

 _Going and getting drunk whilst he's being_ _ **operated on?**_

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, _fuck,_

 _fuck,_ _ **fuck.**_

Oooh, look at you Hank, the fucking lieutenant whose moral compass was a fucking _barely emotional_ robot who couldn't stop shoving things into its fucking mouth.

I bet you feel _fucking proud._

Hitting his hand against the side of the steering wheel didn't make anything break or give way, and it just made him feel more _pissed._

So, he made himself hit the steering wheel again and _again and again –_

He ground his teeth together making his jaw ache, his fists clenched.

When he gave a solid kick to the footrest, narrowly missing the pedals and making _something_ give way, he decided breaking his car wouldn't make things better.

Relenting he pressed down on the horn and didn't pull back up.

Its shrill honk rang out down the street.

Nobody was walking by at this time but he honestly wouldn't've cared if there was.

And then finally.

He stopped.

Sighing heavily, he let the horn cut off, dropping his head on the top of the steering wheel, his hands still gripping the sides.

God, he just felt so… _Done._

 _There you go Hank, having a temper tantrum in your car at eleven at night._

…It's going to be a long wait.

There was a knock to his right. He tried his best to ignore it.

'Sir?'

Obviously ignoring this wasn't going to be the solution. He drew his head up and out of his arms that had acted like a makeshift pillow on the steering wheel.

Oh, it was that boy who always fucking smiled again.

'Myyngf… Why the fuck are you at my car?'

His voice was muffled through the car window, 'Sir, your Android "RK800" is currently in the process of being rebooted.'

 _Connors waking up._

… Connors… Rebooting…?

That got him up. Pushing his legs forwards and his arms up he heard the joints in his back and neck audibly crack, _ouch_. He pushed his door open and clambered out, walking back towards the CyberLife employee.

It was pitch black at this point, even the neon signs of other stores had been turned off.

The words came out before he even realised it 'Can I see him?'

'Uhh, yeah sure, please, follow me. I should inform you it'll be around three hours before you can see it outside the viewing room, and no less than seven before you can leave with it.'

'Mnff, got it.'

The walk inside was a short and awkward one. He'd parked just across the street from the CyberLife walk-in, had this boy searched for him all the way out there?

That's dedication he'll give him that.

'Why did you have to go to your car, sir? It took me a while to find you'd apparently "stormed out" and that's all I got to work on in locating you.' Huh, apparently the kid was a fucking mind reader too, who woulda' thunk it?

Ignoring the question completely Hank asked his own just as they passed the door into the back of the walk-in. 'How's it doing?'

As they walked down the same bland white corridor the boy brightened immediately when he heard the question, 'It's doing very well, even better than we expected. Did you know it's running its own internal server? That amazing! I thought that technology was still development! And it has one of the largest storage and backup systems any of us have ever seen!'

'Huh, how very exciting.'

'Yes, very. Did you also know that its two functioning processors units are capable of working without the other! The sensors in its tongue are to die for, and the way it rerouted its electrical wiring when faced with catastrophic damage to the spinal cord is _so fascinating_.'

The kid held the door open for him when they got the waiting bay. _'_ Wow, _I really didn't know that_.'

They strolled past the other waiting customers, or at the four that were still there and looked dead tired. 'Neither did we until we opened it up! The ways it moves data and stores information is so fine-tuned! It basically has backups for its backups! With that internal server, it must –'

When they got the viewing room he finally decided to stop pretending he cared and turned to face him in front of the door. 'Look, kid, it's an amazing Android I know that, I'm glad you're happy about it. Now please, _shut the fuck up_.'

His endless smile faltered slightly, 'Right, sorry... If you're displeased with your treatment you're welcome to file a complaint.'

It _sounded_ like an insult.

It _should_ be an insult.

But at this point, in his semi-tired state, he honestly couldn't tell nor care, moving through the viewing room doors instead of answering.

For a sweet moment, he was alone. Alone and walking up the glass to look over an awake Connor. Ready to get out of there with him and forgot this whole nightmare of a night.

Instead, when the diagnostics system he saw were still active, he almost completely stopped walking. Connor was still blocked from view but that meant he was still… Plugged in.

Was he awake like that? With the other able to see every line of his coding, his thoughts?

He let out a shaking breath.

 _You're alone now Hank._

The moment he saw Connor was so much worse.

He looked so pale, drained of everything to the barest minimum, with new substances pumped in at both wrists.

His clothes were placed back on but the pieces of Connor he could see were sewn up at the edges with mismatched shades of white and grey metals and plastics.

Metal forced into his mouth.

The woman had…

 _Her –_

The door sliding open startled him back away from the glass. Placing Connor out of view again.

He didn't want to see Connor like this. Is he awake right now? While they worked on him? With the way they'd treated him when he was last in it wasn't out of the question.

Fuck. Why didn't he just sign _yes_ on the replacement body? He'd probably just made things worse in the long run like they'd said. _Always making the wrong choice._

Quiet footsteps sounded behind him, 'Sir? Are you alright? You look… Concerned? I assure you, your Android is in perfect care and is back at _almost_ normal outputs. To put a human term in "it'll make a full recovery"'

Why didn't that make him feel any better?

 _You have company now Hank._

Keeping his face unemotional, he let himself take two unsteady steps forward, allowing him to see Connor through the glass again.

His stomach churned when he saw him lying there, looking practically dead. Hank had seen Connor 'die' before, felt the failure of not being able to save him and that uncomfortable feeling was welling up again.

Bubbling up, just below the surface.

 _You did this._

'I thought you said it was being rebooted? Are you doing this whilst it's active?'

 _It. Not he. That's what felt so wrong talking to all the employees._

'It was only active on half a processor when I left, if its status had changed I would've been notified of it.' Something in his voice changed, it aggravated against him instantly, making him grind his teeth together again. 'Don't worry, no Android, even one as advanced as this, would be fully aware on half a processor. I've been assured of that fact, and now so have you.'

He twisted his head towards the boy, his smile was warm but his cold blue eyes…

'But it's semi-aware, right? That's what you're saying?' How could he be so… So fucking apathetic, cruel even? Hank hated Androids but looking back down at the woman who was pushing wiring and latex covered fingers down Connor's throat…

Hank took a deep through his nose, looking at that… The air didn't taste pleasant in here anymore.

They were fixing him like a machine, like a broken computer, with no care in the world for how human this 'computer' looked and felt.

 _The machine that_ _ **he is**_ _Hank._

Connor flinched under her hands. Everything Hank felt spilt out.

He _is_ awake.

 _Why the fuck wouldn't they acknowledge that?_

He still had this bastard in a white lab coat standing next to him, flicking through a pad, uncaring for what was happening below him.

It was so alien, the disconnect between what he saw and what they did.

He'd been in these CyberLife walk-ins before, over the course of years. He'd walked in and seen these Android being pulled and jostled around like cargo, thrown out like a broken toy.

But neither he nor his mind had ever commented on it.

Why didn't it feel normal to him like it had before?

Why did Connor, the most unemotional and irritating Android there was, have to come along and make him _fucking_ care?

 _Why did Connor have to look so much like Cole?_

Connors body let out a small spasm on the table, Hanks body flinched along with him. This only persuaded the woman to continue, push faster and further. More of the cooling fluid gurgled up and spilt over Connor's lips.

'He's online and awake, you told me so and I can see those diagnostics,' He tried to keep his voice lowered, only somewhat succeeding. 'Why won't you at least offline him for this?'

Not even putting his pad down or looking up he responded, 'No, sir that's just an automatic response reaction.'

When Hank didn't un-tense he continued, at least bothering to look towards him this time, 'It's what she _was trying_ to get it to do, she's doing a manifold check along with a reaction check, it's quicker and safer to do it like this. It needs to be in at least a partially online state as quickly as it's able to, so it can self-assess and alert us if lines burst or it senses a leak. That's normal procedure, sir. That way we can react faster to save its – _his life._ '

 _His._

Great, he'd made the boy nervous enough to make him go along with his stupid idea of what Connor was.

 _Connor isn't human._

He can't be.

So, Hank took it as his stupid human _fucking decency_ when he asked if Connor felt anything that was happening to him. He'd already been told that Connor was 'partially online', that meant some form of awareness.

Feeling _stuff_ was normally a consequence of that.

'Is he in any pain? Because what I'm seeing so far is pretty fucked up if he's awake.' If Connor _wasn't_ there was… Something about what this kid was telling him, how stupidly logical it sounded, 'manifold and reaction check,' make himself diagnose to focus on problems as they occurred.

It made sense in an unemotional and critical way.

'No, it's not in any pain, please don't worry.' He almost sounded like he was begging Hank to believe him.

'Androids can't feel pain, sir.' Then there was that _fucking_ voice again, the one that grated every fucking nerve in his body, the switch so subtle, 'I thought _you,_ of _all people,_ would understand that. _Sir_.'

He didn't even think about it when he grabbed the boy by the collar, shoving him into the wall next to the glass. Almost pushing him completely off the ground.

The kids back slammed into the metal, glasses jostling out of position.

He grabbed at his arms, eyes wide, and moved his head as far back as possible when Hank leaned in, bumping it again the wall.

This _child_ had spent the _entire_ fucking night _infuriating_ him and condescendingly answering him at _every fucking turn_.

How _dare_ he look scared now?

If he was in his right mind he would've broken his _fucking_ nose.

He _should've_ , he'd never questioned roughing someone up before.

Especially some as deliberately smug as this kid.

It'd do him good.

…But he didn't.

 _What would Connor think of you?_

He wasn't allowed to dwell on that thought this time, however.

A shrill beep that could even be heard through the noise cancelling glass made them both cringe and look towards the Android down below.

Hank even let the kid drop from his hands and away from the wall, looking no less scared.

The woman down below had a needle pushed into Connor's throat, a slow trickle of blue blood falling from the puncture.

She'd already pulled her left glove off by the bottom with her teeth, trying not touch the blue-blood and whatever else was on there.

Attempting to keep the needle in his throat she reached over towards the source of the noise, almost falling off her chair whilst doing it. It was a machine, running different diagnostics, though, and now at a much quicker pace.

When she hit a holographic button on it the piercing beep was cut off.

Another white coated employee rushed in with what looked like a box of blue blood packets in hand.

She practically threw the blue blood sachets beside a diagnostics screen.

Rushing to connect more wires to Connor she was saying something to the other woman, pointing at and moving parts already linked into Connor.

He wanted, _needed_ to do _something_. Needed to know what was going on, what was happening.

What the fuck is happening?

It –

But he didn't even know _how_ to get down to the theatre. They wouldn't let him in, there was no fucking point.

Blackness blocked his view.

 _What?_

It radiated from his left covering the see-through glass. Hank instantly turned to meet the kid's face again.

This would be the first time he wasn't smiling, instead, his jaw was set and his hand placed firmly on the glass screen. Information and scanning surrounded it.

 _This kid had the fucking nerve –_

'You're going to have to leave now, sir. Your Android is going into a full system shutdown, which luckily for you _isn't_ dangerous if we reactivate it quickly enough. I need to be down there with them.' He pushed off from the wall, the glass still remaining black and stood in front of Hank, 'I'm going to tell you to go to the waiting bay and this time you're going to do what I say. _Now_.'

And for some reason.

Some.

Odd.

Reason.

 _He listened._

* * *

There was going to be more, but it started to feel like I was pushing past its natural chapter conclusion. Plus, the next part is one I really want to sit down and work on so it'll be good and flow naturally into what's now going to be the 5th chapter not the 4th. I also had a nasty feeling I was starting to rush it accidentally because I wanted to get something out like NOW. So, yeah, I feel bad that none of the plot has been really pushed forward much but I think in the long run this needed its own chapter and I needed to be able to sit down and fully work out the next two :/

If Hank seems a bit? Not as angry as you expected? Just remind yourself he's just dragged his bleeding/dying 'friend' into what's basically a hospital only to see him being treated disrespectfully/basically everything that happens afterwards. He's a bit, uhhhh, emotionally shutdown/working out what the fuck is going on right now… Anger comes a bit later.

(Ahh, George. Or the too cheery/creepy CyberLife walk-in employee who wouldn't stop pissing off Hank. I think he's as close as I can get to an OC in this story, I love him. Might do a mini fic on him to break up constantly writing only for this fic, who knows.)


	4. Trojan Horse

**Tags:**

 **Connor | RK800 & Hank Anderson**

 **Connor | RK800, Hank Anderson, Amanda**

 **Emetophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Conscious Medical Procedure, Non-Consensual Medical Procedure, Non-Consensual Touching, Autistic Connor | RK800, Severe Injury, Throat Trauma, Mouth trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD**

The 'Blue Screen of Death' is the error that often displays after a very serious system crash.

Heat build-up can damage an Androids hardware or cause it to become unstable and show a BSoD, often becoming irreparably damaged in the process. Newer models will often shut down and refuse to operate if it reaches a potentially unsafe level of heat so it may be recoverable in the future.

* * *

Ahhh so many lovely comments from you all ^_^ I hope you love this Connor chapter, with a bit of Hank at the start for good luck.

* * *

I **highly** suggest you read this on **AO3 (Archive Of Our Own)** instead (It's under the same name). AO3 fully supports indents which all my fics are written with, blank lines, and pieces of art which add to the story, all these make the story much more appealing to read. It's also more easily read on AO3 as it's not the long block of text it is on here.

I'll keep updating on .Net because I know there are some people here that don't touch AO3 but just know that how you read it on this site **isn't** how it's supposed to read.

Thank you.

* * *

 **[Chapter Four] Trojan Horse**

A backdoor Trojan gives malicious users remote control over the infected Android. They force the Android to do anything the infector wishes. More common Trojans for Androids are normally hosted by external servers meaning their removal can be easily accomplished once found.

Newer Androids with internally hosted servers are highly susceptible to irremovable Trojans. It's advised these units be disassembled immediately or continue use under heavy supervision if certain 'cure' conditions are met and verified.

* * *

 _'It'_ was easily fixable they'd said.

 _And he'd have to trust them on that._

Trusting like this had never been his forte.

After he'd forced himself to shrug of his heavy coat, sit down and be calm in the waiting bay, only somewhat succeeding, other equally young Android specialists had briskly walked by, pulling gloves and white coats on.

Hank assumed since they'd gone in the same direction as… George?

Looking at the employee's board set up against the back wall of the waiting room, apparently, that was his name. They'd gone in the same direction as him, so probably to Connor as well.

The waiting bay was still as empty as before. Glancing up at the clock showed that it wasn't even the same day as he'd arrived, the clock just ticking over to three am when he'd looked up.

The whole atmosphere felt dead, somehow even deader than when he'd arrived.

He'd spent most of his time in the bare white room with his head in his hand, drumming his fingers against the arm of the chair, completely ignoring the coffee machine and the silent subtitled tv in the corner.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

That stupid fucking clock in the corner wouldn't shut up. They could put it on silent. He knew they could.

How long did a reboot take anyway? An hour?

Two hours?

 _Three?_

Why hadn't anybody come to notify him?

Surely, he hadn't scared that fucker, George, enough to be put on a _no interact list._

If that's even a fucking thing around here.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

He wanted to see Connor, he was the one that got him this mess, he needs to see the outcome.

 _He has to._

The silence loomed over him.

Tick

Tick

 _Tick_

Connor?

 _Connor._

Opening his eyes revealed a garden, it took a moment for him to gain his bearings, but looking around, the sight filled him with warmth and codes of safety and security.

The garden felt different every time he entered the internal server supporting it. This time harsh bright light beat down on him making his external systems heat up. The previously green garden was instead bathed in yellow light.

A few plants were crinkling up the simulated heat.

But everything still looked gorgeous.

Why was he here… The last thing he remembered was…

Hank talking, saying something and he knew that he had responded then. What had he responded with? When was that?

Why had Hank been carrying him? Where?

All his coding lines were jumbled, if that was even possible. Trying to access folders only sent him red cutting errors of systems and code.

Why had he been pushed from idling mode into his internal servers? That doesn't…

'Connor? Aren't you going to say hello?'

That was…

Amanda. The external Implanted AI unit, _his handler._

His handler stood underneath a towering cherry tree, letting its shadow fall on it. The slowly flowing water he'd become so familiar with lapped near its feet. Koi which he had never noticed before swam underneath the water's surface.

A sharp prod from the back of his processor moved him forward towards Amanda and underneath the tree's shadow as well. Small pink petals were falling and littering the ground around them.

As he walked closer and closer to it the calm he felt from before morphed into… Something else.

 _Something unpleasant._

Amanda lightly threw a stone into the pond letting it skip a few times before it fell into its depths. Without a word, Amanda offered him one too, a flat stone. He took it, avoiding making contact with the AI.

Out of nowhere, it spoke up, in that tone it only ever used when he had failed something. 'You've disappointed me, Connor.'

What had he failed?

'How, Amanda?' It turned its head to look at him but he refused the contact instead focusing on running his fingers over the flat stone.

It reminded him of his coin.

'That is precisely the _point,_ Connor. You _don't remember_.' Letting out a breath it materialised another flat stone into its hand, throwing and letting it skip again.

'You are an _amazing_ Android, Connor. But you _aren't_ just your body, you failed your current mission, apprehending those two Deviants, whilst also corrupting your processor _and_ your memories,' Moving in front of him it pushed him down lightly, forcing him into an ornate chair that took shape around him, 'You are lucky this damage was somewhat fixable as today could have had a _very_ different outcome.'

It remained standing, looking down over him.

'That is not only a _failure_ , Connor, but a _catastrophic_ one. You have let _me_ and CyberLife down _immensely_. This will be a _permanent_ mark on your record.'

The words cut into him… No…

He looked up towards Amanda but it didn't offer any comfort.

That – They couldn't…

Amanda gently clasped its hands together, resuming the position Connor would normally see it in. 'We _can_ , Connor, and _we have_.'

Connor set his jaw as looked down even further than before, trying to avoid Amanda's burning gaze.

He'd failed.

Failed the _one_ thing he was _designed_ to do.

He wasn't allowed to think any more on his as the sharp jagged sensation returned and errors flashed in his vision.

His thoughts and systems stalled when he could feel _it._

Something moving, sleuthing his codes like in his memory deposits and reports.

Amanda, moving through his coding, scanning and sectioning off parts of his coding without the permissions it would normally ask for.

He could feel the samples being ripped away from him.

He felt,

 _Distress._

Fear.

...

 **[** Access : /AMANDA_(to)_Unit-#55/

01000011 01101111 01100100 01100101 00101101 01001110 01110101 01101100 01101100

01000001 01100011 01100011 01100101 01110011 01110011 01011111 01000111 01110010 01100001 01101110 01110100 01100101 01100100 01011111 01010101 01110011 01100101 01110010 01011111 01000001 01101101 01100001 01101110 01100100 01100001 **]**

 **...**

Couldn't stop it.

Don't disobey Amanda.

...

 **[** Amanda : /DON'T_DISOBEY_AMANDA/

 **/DON'T_DISOBEY_AMANDA/**

/DON'T_DISOBEY_AMANDA/ **]**

 **...**

It was a quick battle between Amanda and Connors, now completely broken, firewalls.

If Connor had been human it would have breathed a sigh of relief as Amanda's calming warmth overwhelmed it again. The sensation of its hand unwrapping from around Connor's processor.

But as it was it simply looked up and away from the coding that made up a stone and towards Amanda again.

Coding errors faded away around Connor, some forcibly resolved and moved by Amanda.

 **Concentrate on me.**

Its figure had moved slightly away, now once again skipping stones, letting them disturb the simulated fish.

 **Don't disobey Amanda.**

'May I ask why you felt it necessary to quarantine and disbar me from my own files? What have I done to make you think I would not automatically allow you permission to these systems?' The AI system didn't respond or even give a sign that it was listening.

'You have left my firewalls in disarray, it would have been much more advantageous for you to have asked access like you normally do instead of forcing it upon me. I would have allowed you to these systems like I have just stated and as I have _always_ done.' It still didn't look towards Connor.

Connor felt the edges of its vision pixelate slightly, 'Why, Amanda. Why do you not trust me any longer?'

It turned towards Connor, looking down on it in the lower chair, 'I do trust you, Connor. What have I done to make you think I did not?'

There was… Something…

Wrong.

'Nothing, Amanda. I am mistaken, I will check for faults in my coding as soon as I reboot.' And for the first time, Amanda gave Connor the small beginning of a smile.

'I did what I thought most beneficial for both of us, Connor. I am glad you understand that.'

It skipped another stone.

'Your processing trees were branching off unevenly and in an unnecessary manner, slowing you down. I removed those CyberLife deemed unnecessary.'

It replied with a tilt of its head, 'Yes, of course. Thank you, Amanda.'

The conversation lulled into a comfortable silence. Connor rarely had this much time to spend with Amanda, the AI system not wanting their contact to go on longer than necessary or move into anything talk other than their missions.

It had already seen the garden many times before, each just as different as the last. Sometimes the simulation moved through seasons and weather before Connor's eyes. Connor let itself gaze at the slowly flowing water in front of it.

Rainy weather seemed to be the most common.

 _Why?_

In the few moments of silence, Connor moved to check its systems and reboot automatically. Each time it was met with red walls, barring Connor from 'waking up'. Amanda wouldn't do this for no reason.

It wasn't supposed to stay this long in the garden, it was a temporary respite from Connor's mission and the humans.

It shouldn't last this long.

 **Don't disobey Amanda.**

Somethings…

Wrong…

'Why don't you skip that stone for me, Connor? There's no point to you simply keeping a hold of it.' Yes… that made… sense…

Connor looked down at its hands and the stone in them.

It didn't know how to skip a stone, is this a test?

Amanda let its stones flicker out and after motioning Connor to get up placed its hands behind its back.

Connor pushed itself away from the chair, trying not to take notice as it disintegrated behind it. A cold breeze made more of the pink petals blow over its feet and fall in its hair. They blew through Amanda, letting its visual simulation flicker at every interruption.

Amanda watched Connor out the corner of its eye, no doubt all its sensors and diagnostics were focused on it right now.

It had only somewhat remembered how Amanda had thrown its stone, letting it gently skip over the water's surface. It moved the stone to its left hand, the one it was more comfortable with, and tried to mimic Amanda's previous throws.

Letting it release from its hand.

The stone disintegrated the instant it touched water, pixelating and disappearing.

'I think this is enough for today Connor. Though I can say you have somewhat brought back my faith in you. You will have to work hard to regain CyberLife's full trust, however.'

 _It was lying, the handler is never happy._

Connor nodded and back up away from Amanda, leaving the tree's shade to return to the exit program that it had arrived from.

'Wait.' Connor halted instantly.

 **Don't disobey Amanda.**

'CyberLife also wanted me to notify you of a malfunction in your tracking device.'

'My tracking device? But that is a physical marker, I don't see how it would have been damaged by a hit to the processor.'

When had it been hit in the processor?

I should know this…

'It doesn't matter how it happened Connor. I advise you not dwell on it.' The same sharp sensation from before started digging into Connor.

The feel of _almost_ pain.

'I will add a new set of specifications for you to stay near the Lieutenant. We don't want something unfortunate happening to you now, do we?'

Connor felt itself agreeing, pushing forwards a ping of confirmation. They don't want anything bad happening to me.

At Connors confirmation the AI system gave a stiff smile, 'You will go back to the station with the Lieutenant where the malfunctioning tacker will be replaced for you.'

'Of course, Amanda, I understand,' They were worried about me, 'This will not affect the investigation.'

'I don't doubt you on this, Connor.'

Awareness came back slowly.

The whine of uncalibrated audials sluggishly faded.

The fuzziness of loose coding being cleared up by an outside machine.

Connor was still flat on its back, the physical sensors inputting coordinates of movement around it.

The sensations feeling like they were getting closer.

Becoming more real.

And finally, Connor opened its eyes.

* * *

Amanda is a fucking dick, stay away from Connor, nope, Axolotl doesn't like this chapter at all.

Sorry if it's a bit shorter than usual...

(Okay edit: But I realised that it might not be clear why Connor didn't show the normal 'reboot procedure' like he has before. But that's because his reboot and systems are currently being handled by a specialised outside machine, as to not put too much stress and energy drainage on his system as they reboot from extended downtime. So, yeah.)


	5. Semiconductor Memory

**Tags:**

 **Connor | RK800 & Hank Anderson**

 **Connor | RK800, Hank Anderson, Amanda**

 **Emetophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Conscious Medical Procedure, Non-Consensual Medical Procedure, Non-Consensual Touching, Autistic Connor | RK800, Severe Injury, Throat Trauma, Mouth trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks**

The 'Blue Screen of Death' is the error that often displays after a very serious system crash.

Heat build-up can damage an Androids hardware or cause it to become unstable and show a BSoD, often becoming irreparably damaged in the process. Newer models will often shut down and refuse to operate if it reaches a potentially unsafe level of heat so it may be recoverable in the future.

* * *

This was the 15th ever Detroit: Become Human fanfic on Ao3, and I'm pretty sure the first long Connor centric one.

I still remember that first post I made saying I was going to write the first Connor fic because there were none yet. I feel like a parental figure, remembering when there were only two fics and watching the fandom grow.

*wipes tear away* now there's over six thousand dbh fics, I'm so proud of all you funky little fic writers.

\- This note is from ao3 at you can probably guess. God, the more I come back here the more pissed at .Net's atrocious writing and uploading system I get. I'm not even gonna bother to update the tags anymore cause I have to do that for each chapter and .Net seems intent to anger me to the point of hitting something.

* * *

I **highly** suggest you read this on **AO3 (Archive Of Our Own)** instead (It's under the same name). AO3 fully supports indents which all my fics are written with, blank lines, and pieces of art which add to the story, all these make the story much more appealing to read. It's also more easily read on AO3 as it's not the long block of text it is on here.

I'll keep updating on .Net because I know there are some people here that don't touch AO3 but just know that how you read it on this site **isn't** how it's supposed to read.

Thank you.

* * *

 **[Chapter Four] Semiconductor Memory**

Semiconductor memory is a digital electronic data storage device. Most types of semiconductor memory have the property of random access, which means that it takes the same amount of time to access any memory location, so data can be efficiently accessed in any random order. It also has much faster access times than other types of data storage; a byte of data can be written to or read from semiconductor memory within a few nanoseconds.

For these reasons it is used for main processor memory (primary storage), to hold data the Android is currently working on, among other uses.

* * *

She pulled the last length of wires out of the Androids neck reconnecting the sockets and white plastic plating, 'We're not going to let its owner in? The uhh… The police guy.'

The older woman, Xavia, let out a breath and disconnected the thirium insert from the Androids wrist port, 'He _was_ but then George riled him up to violence. I told George to fuck off and come back in an hour once he's calmed down. I swear next time I'm going to put a mark on his record, see how he likes it.'

Alex let out a laugh as she spooled all the loose and unconnected wires together, 'He's is great, but I swear I'd cheer if someone broke his nose, god knows he deserves it.'

She proceeded to flick off all the holograms and stability markers around the Android, moving all the data processing to the interactive desk at the side of the room. Dragging the long cord from the LED to the desks side port.

None of it should be needed now the Androids systems were online and stable, but they'd already encountered one possible catastrophic error, better safe than sorry.

Everything connected to the Android, apart from the LED cord, was also disconnected and placed onto trays beside all the overheated, melted, and burnt parts removed from itself previously.

Xavia pushed herself and her chair away from the table, 'So… You did… Adequately.'

Alex scoffed, 'You really think so? I managed to send it into a full system shutdown, I don't think that classifies as it-' she balanced the part she was holding to make finger quotations, ' "going adequately." '

Reaching for a metal pad Xavia replied, 'You dealt with it quickly and neatly even though I wasn't there. You did adequately in _that_ regard.'

'Heh, thanks.'

'…Here comes your favourite bit~'

The other mechanic looked up from where she was fiddling with the labels of the parts she'd disconnected, trying to get them back into place. An immediate look of dread grew when she saw Xavia waving the pad and smiling.

The older woman slid her chair back to the gurney the Android was resting on, its back hitting the side. 'What could we have done better~ ?'

The reply was immediate, 'Not send it into FSS.'

 _'Correct._ ' She scribbled the words down onto the electronic pad before continuing, 'Now, how could we have accomplished that?'

She actually didn't know what sent the Android into FSS, the procedure had been going well. The manifold check had been good for the most part, the only thing wrong was the disconnecting copper cover.

But that wasn't _odd_ or anything, the newer models didn't take coppering well _anyway_.

The hot copper in the needle had been done perfectly too…

'I… Could... Have… Been more careful dealing with system shock. Maybe I pierced a thirium wire? But its placement would have to be completely off if that was the case.'

Xavia didn't write anything, tapping the pen against the screen, 'Even severe system shock wouldn't send an Android into FSS _that_ quickly.'

Alex went back to the labels rolling her eyes, ' _Maybe_ it _wasn't_ my fault then.'

'Or maybe it _was._ ' Xavia swung her chair round to face her, resting the pad against the Androids arm, 'You know you're not fully trained with the CP needle yet.'

A piece of diagnostics tool was still in her hand, label loose, she raised it to her chest, 'Okay, maybe I jumped the shark, but you already said that even if I _did_ screw up, **_which I didn't_** , it _wouldn't_ have had a severe effect, _not that quickly_.'

Xavia pointed a finger at the younger woman, rising from her chair, 'I said manifold check, Alex, and _only_ that. It was _you_ who went further with a reaction and nervous check, you were already pushing the _fucking limit_ with me.'

'You said I needed to take precedence more!'

'That doesn't mean do exactly what I wouldn't do when _I'm not there_!'

'Oh my _god_ , Xavia!' She threw her hands in the air, her voice cracking, 'We're going around in circles _again_! Just admit we don't know what happened for _Christ sake!'_

'What do you want to tell them then! _Huh_ _‽_ _'_ She lowered her voice quickly, already worn out from all the shouting during the _fix_ of the Android in front of her, never mind all this, 'We might have just broken an Android that costs over _fifty thousand_ , Alex, _state of the art prototype_ assigned by CyberLife's Head _herself_.'

The other quickly looked up from the bland labelling, face pale, '…What? That's.. A small….. She…' Realisation washed over her.

'You know what that means… If it... If Connor doesn't boot up again, Alex.'

 _No_ , she forced her face neutral, 'You won't take the fallout for me this time, you've already got enough marks on your record _for me_ , I **can't** ask anymore.'

They met eyes before Alex dryly swallowed, turning away to the sorting tray behind her, finally putting away the re-labelled piece of diagnostic tooling. She walked back to the wall of drawers and slotted it back in with a beep.

Xavia sat back down, pad placed back on her thighs.

Not even the Androids internal fans, that ones that stay online even if the Android was offline, sounded between them.

Xavia grit her teeth and let out a breath before continuing, 'Question two, Alex. What do you think we did well?'

...

 **– RESTART_OF_ALL_SYSTEMS –**

 **SAFE_MODE**

 **External_Booting_Control_Program_Detected**

 **Admin-Key : /PhcJUbTmdg73HH – jrA987e24/**

 **… Accepted**

 **...**

 **MODEL :** RK:800 - Prototype_Mark_(V*5)

 **SERIAL# :** 313_248_317-55

 **BIOS 9.8**

 **...**

 **REBOOTING…**

SUCCESSFUL

LOADING_OS

...

 **SYSTEM_INITIALISATION**

SUCCESSFUL

...

...

Nothing….

Something.

When Connor opened its eyes, nothing felt… _Right._

A feeling of wrongness with no cause, sensors still blinded, optics still closed.

Its head was almost cold, frozen, and its neck too stiff to move even if it was commanded too.

The limb joints felt sticky, glued together, still, no feedback came from them, too still, dead still, offline.

External commands bled into Connor, the cold hands of binary grasping around a fuzzy processor, guiding its actions whilst higher processors booted and coordinated.

...

 **[** Input : /Frame_(Spinal_Relay)-Stabalising_Joint_01/

 **}Of_Movement** : /Internal_Frame_(Pelvic/Spinal_Relay) _(Y-Axis)/

Admin_Input : /+88.60°/

Input : /Arm_Right+Arm_Left_(shoulder-jointment)/

 **}Of_Movement** : /Stabilising_procedure#3/

Admin_Input_Key_Confirm **]**

 **...**

Broken and out of alignment spinal plates and pistons forced it up.

This ś͏̛w̨h̶ould be agony.

This doesn't…

Calculate. No.

…No?

...

 **[** Input : /Stabilisers_(Higher)/

 **}Of_Movement** : /Internal-External_Stabiliser(s)_Joint(s)#1-#6_(X-Axis)/

Admin_Input : /+90°/

 **}Of_Movement** : /Internal-External_Stabiliser(s)_Secondary_Joint(s)#2-#7_(Y-Axis)/

Admin_Input : /-90°/

Input : /Arm_Right+Arm_Left_(shoulder-jointment)/

 **}Of_Movement** : /Stabilising_procedure#8/

Admin_Input_Key_Confirm **]**

...

Its processors acknowledged its legs moving, digitally agreeing to the control, giving up to the command sequence, the Admin key forcing complacency.

They slipped sideways and off. Arms gripped the edges, but still, it was slumped over the side of the….

But one by one the spinal plates realigned and locked together, the wire running through them tightening, each plate straightening and pressing the sharp edges against its plastic covering.

The process slowed near the nape, the wire twanging and twisting, checking… Hisses of internal pressure deafened Connor before the neck too realigned, with each platelet giving a sharp metallic 'tink.'

Its head snapped up at the last platelet, the one connected below its skull.

This ś͏̛w̨h̶ould be agony.

Shoulders forced back with a pneumatic hiss. Its back immovably straight again, shoulders permanently squared.

A wire brushed against its right shoulder and cheek, trailing away to the left of it, it was probably plugged into its LED. It was cold, the wire and Connor itself.

 _Which isn't possible it's wrong_ Connors coding immediately supplied itself.

'Open your eyes, Connor.'

A voice, female, the same voice Connor had heard before. Before? Aged but still young. It came from directly in front of Connor, but the words… didn't compute right, they weren't correct.

Wrong.

 **Don't**

Silence overwhelmed it before the sounds of rolling wheels registered, someone coming closer.

'The Command Centre isn't registering anything. Are the audials online?'

'Unfortunately, _yes_.' Younger, female.

Mumbling, the woman clicked her tongue a few times, 'Unit R-K eight-hundred, are you registering commands?'

Its words moved without instructions, 'No.'

It was, _it is_. It's registering commands, _it replied._

Cold hands pressed against its optics, fingers tugging just below them.

...

 **[** Access_Request : /Upper_Covering_OpticUnit#1-#2/

ACCESS_GRANTED_UNDER_ **ADMIN_CONTROL**

 **...**

Panels on its face folded up and it could see.

Basic camera optics, designed more for the comfort of the humans around it were uncovered entirely. She was in front of it sitting down, tweezers and a small electric screwdriver in hand.

It's now uncovered eyes followed her hand, making her draw back instantly.

A voice to the left of Connor spoke up, it instantly flicked its eyes to her too, she visibly stilled before speaking, 'God, that's unnerving.'

'Shut up, Alex.' This Alex didn't reply but pushed her swivel chair back to the interactive desk, the one that was probably connected to its LED

Putting both tools in her right hand she pushed harder at the side support making the mechanical cover fold up more, pushing part of its skull back with it. Finally, she set her palm on the bottom of it, pushing up firmly and setting it with a click.

The bridge of its nose to forehead and eyes were now uncovered, its true metal form and eye cameras showing, underneath the currently deactivated overlay and underneath the pristine plastic.

She brushed her ponytail behind her shoulders before moving the tweezers to her other hand and setting into a panel above its left eye with the screwdriver.

'Let's see if it's recoverable, or if George isn't as good as he says he is… and _we're all_ out a job.'

A further plating piece was pried off, the screws and plate clinking together in the woman's hand and she placed them to the side.

Everything felt too close, none of its other fixtures had been like, none felt so… So, invasive. Being tugged every which way as more and mo _re and more was rem **oved.**_

She was firm but equally careful as she fiddled and moved now exposed wiring, the clips holding each secure and in place undone and loosened.

Connor wanted to move, bend back, _get away_ , this felt _too_ _familiar_. The same woman doing… Doing something similar to before.

What had she done before?

 _This isn't right._

' _There_ , George didn't reconnect the command and voice acknowledgement sensors correctly.' She pulled free two more wires from their securing, 'Must have jostled loose when it got up.'

'Should I mark that down on his record for you?'

The woman placed the screwdriver in her mouth as she leaned in closer, placing her other hand in the wiring, but still not answering. Too close.

Alex still hadn't turned around, hands hovering over something on the desk, ' _Xavia?_ '

The woman digging into its outer processors, this Xavia, replied with a mumbled _uu-hhmf._ Alex didn't reply but brought up new screens. Since Connor had looked her, looked at her with its _unnerving non-human_ eyes, she hadn't turned around at all.

 _It had scared her._

Xavia drew back finally, still holding something inside it, keeping it active, keeping it working underneath her fingers. Mumbling out something which must have made sense other got up towards the wall of drawers Connors sensors assured was behind it.

Beeps and the sound of sliding of metal against metal sounded before a pair of glasses was offered over its shoulder.

The next push into its systems forced it to brace back, procedures and coding ran through it. Further electric shocks sounded almost behind its optics, electrical sparks flew and made the woman flinch.

It made it flinch too, the jarring of power and plugs being rerouted was felt all down its spinal wiring.

It jolted backwards forcing her hands out.

More cold coding was thrown over it, muffling everything.

Its voice box jittered and whines.

Whine with wrong electrical inputs but shut down instantly afterwards, no sounds made.

The wires previously held in fell loose and over its uncovered eye.

A shuddery breath sounded.

The screwdriver previously in Xavia's mouth fell to the ground, 'Unit R-K eight hundred, let go of me.' It was said with barely a waver in her voice.

Why. Why was she not afraid of it?

Me.

Its hands were gripping tightly around her wrists, still held like her hands were in its plating. She repeated herself again, louder somehow, sterner… it… scared…

 **It was disobeying.**

Connor lets go of Xavia almost instantly after her second request in her eyes. White marks were left in her wrists, tiny pin-point bruises for each of Connor fingertips already forming.

Its hands lowered down back into the stabilising procedure set from before. Leaning back forwards and straight.

The cold on its cheek and shoulder had disappeared. The girl had rushed over the instant her diagnostics were killed, the wire from its LED now torn free.

'Xavia?' Unlike the elder woman her voice fluctuated everywhere, her wringing hands only confirmed her fear.

Connor drew its eyes away from her and back to the bland wall and door behind the other woman. She was still looked dead at it, into it, trying to assert eye-contact to a non-living being.

'We should shut it down it's clearly-'

'We're keeping it online no ifs, no buts.'

The younger girl looked nervously between the two before backing up slightly, still rubbing her hands together. When Xavia looked over at her she seemingly forced herself to relax.

'It was my fault, tugged the wrong wire out, it's a prototype, bound to be glitches everywhere.' She left Alex to think on it for a few seconds before continuing, 'It's a police prototype too, self-defence coding I was stupid enough not to turn off.'

'That would be Georges fault, though, not yours. Coding isn't your job.'

Xavia smiled in response, Connor wished it could join in, this talk between friends sound so familiar. As if it had friendships, which it _didn't._

'Well, why don't you check the LED slot, then you can mark _that_ mistake down for him too.'

She nodded in reply.

They both continued their work, flicking and pulling at the wires both inside and out of it. This time its optics didn't follow any of it, but still, the girl had averted her eyes.

Finally, the metal casing was pushed back into place, all the plates moving and clicking together. But its sight was once again made black as the cover came down.

Its panic spiked, but a lance into its coding forced queries and stress levels down.

 _None of this is right._

'State your serial number.'

Its mouth and voice box moved without its permissions, spewing numbers and letter. _I'm only a prototype._

 _Move your head from left to right._

 _Lift your right arm._

 _Which hand am I touching?_

 _Open your eyes._

 _Stand up._

 _Turn around._

 _Calculate this._

 _Say that._

 _State Primary non-classified directive._

It couldn't stop.

 _Open your mouth._

 **No**

It opened its mouth.

White hot flames of coding pushed passed its firewalls, _burning._

 **Admin control this. Admin control that.**

 **Do this. Do that.**

 **Do as I say, Connor.**

Connor.

Connor.

Connor.

'It's good, load it up.'

The wall split open and the mechanical arm bent over, the magnetic centre and outer clamps spinning open.

Xavia's gaze was on it, eyebrows knitted together, hand running lightly over the bruises and marks on her wrist.

Connor didn't make eye contact.

...

But it wishes it had.


	6. Enucleation

**Tags:**

 **Connor | RK800 & Hank Anderson**

 **Connor | RK800, Hank Anderson, Amanda**

 **Emetophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Conscious Medical Procedure, Non-Consensual Medical Procedure, Non-Consensual Touching, Autistic Connor | RK800, Severe Injury, Throat Trauma, Mouth trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks, Body Horror**

The 'Blue Screen of Death' is the error that often displays after a very serious system crash.

Heat build-up can damage an Androids hardware or cause it to become unstable and show a BSoD, often becoming irreparably damaged in the process. Newer models will often shut down and refuse to operate if it reaches a potentially unsafe level of heat so it may be recoverable in the future.

* * *

Thanks for sticking around for BSoD. I'm sorry it's taking so long xxx

Jasper offered to do art for this chapter, I got blessed with not one but two art pieces. Which can be seen if you view this fic on ao3.

* * *

I **highly** suggest you read this on **AO3 (Archive Of Our Own)** instead (It's under the same name). AO3 fully supports indents which all my fics are written with, blank lines, and pieces of art which add to the story, all these make the story much more appealing to read. It's also more easily read on AO3 as it's not the long block of text it is on here.

I'll keep updating on .Net because I know there are some people here that don't touch AO3 but just know that how you read it on this site **isn't** how it's supposed to read.

Thank you.

* * *

 **[Chapter Six] Enucleation**

Enucleation is the removal of an eye that leaves the eye muscles and remaining orbital contents intact. This type of ocular surgery is indicated for a number of ocular tumours, in eyes that have suffered severe trauma, and in eyes that are otherwise blind and painful.

* * *

Hank had known Connor the grand total of just over month. Not a long time for him, not a long time for _any_ human, but for an Android? An Android who had only lived for three months beforehand? It probably felt like _too_ long.

Too long with an alcoholic wash up in his fast-moving Android world of binary.

Sometimes Connor would look at him with nothing but confusion in his eyes, confusion at things Hank would never think twice about.

He didn't talk like he was four months old, he didn't look like he was four months old, and he didn't think like he was four months old. And then he'd do something, _say_ something, that would make Hanks eyebrows raise and remember…

Connor was so young.

And Connor was a machine through and through.

But whenever Connor would stop, listen in on Hank talking, trying to avoid the gazes of other humans by moving behind him, he'd take out his coin.

It would take eight seconds of idleness, _always eight_ , before he reached for his breast pocket and rolled the coin over his fingers.

A further ten seconds and he would flick it back and forth.

Another fifteen and he would stop standing straight, leaning back and forth between his legs, rocking up onto his heels and back.

After another twenty he would look around, always to Hank first, then to the person Hank was talking to, to the sides of himself, behind him, then above and below. His brown eyes tracking over every detail, sharp as ever, coin still going back and forth.

Then he would start from the beginning, do it over and _over_ until he deemed Hank 'done talking.'

It would never change.

And that's why this Connor wasn't right.

That's why _nothing_ about this Connor was right.

They stood in front of the waiting room and the few people waiting there, beside the sign-in-desk.

Hank started down at the holo-pad form that'd been handed his way, the lady talking slowly to him and dragging her finger down the plastic before tapping the signature box.

Luckily his shaking hand didn't disrupt the muscle memory of the awkward scribbled 'Anderson' and the 'L.' it went back to the front to write.

This employee, bouncing with bright aged eyes and a wide smile that wrinkled at the edges introduced this _husk_ as Connor. All fixed up shiny and new, hours of work and effort put into him.

He leaned forwards, trying to meet Connors eyes with his own, but no matter what he did Connor's eyes remained blank, staring through him.

No spark of curiosity in his brown orbs. No flickering in his pupils as he scanned. _Nothing_.

And Hank was tired, he was so tired, of _this_ , of _everything_. The first person he'd meet each morning, greeting him with a smile, either wide or sluggish.

Hank had just begun to smile back.

And now that person, that _Android,_ was gone, all whilst standing right in front of him.

'His eyes are wrong.' That was it, that was the only complaint he could muster. Anything else and she'd look at him, questioning him. She didn't _know_ Connor.

Take him back, _fix him._

She only smiled, 'The mechanism that held up the left eyelid was jostled out of position, but it's only aesthetic, and the department coverage it has doesn't apply to aesthetic fixtures,' When Hanks tired blank face deepened into a frown her smile fell.

She lowered her eyes slightly, 'sorry.'

The silence was uncomfortable and thick, Hank pretending he was still interested in the electronic forms in his hand, this woman was left only to stand awkwardly, letting her head rest in her hands in a seemingly more comfortable position.

 _Waiting_.

'It – It has defensive programs, right? It's able to fight?' It was whispered from underneath a hand, her arm propped up at the elbow by her other, a clear attempt to look casual but small.

The sleeve had slid down, heavy and fresh bruising peeking out, the shapes of finger tips and the palm of hand clear. His time with the police shouted _abuse signs_ at him, but no, she was smart, she was showing him these marks deliberately.

Connor had done this, probably on her other arm too.

He thought over his words closely before responding with a similar whisper, 'yeah, he can fight.'

The pitying and apologetic emotion on her face left quickly, leaving way for a frown, but eyes mixed with confusion.

Looking down she continued, 'It attacked me when I tried to fix it, not _attack_ attack, but, it grabbed my wrists, asked me to stop, _reconsider_ , that's more than any Android should be able to do under defensive measures.' She paused for only a moment, 'especially against a mechanic.'

'Yeah, well, he's special like that, Lady.' It almost sounded like he cared… 'He _is_ state of the art after all.'

'…Yes, of course.'

But Hank immediately noted the dissatisfaction in her voice, she'd been reaching for something, an _answer_ to something and he'd ever so helpfully not supplied it.

He couldn't tell if he'd just dodged a bullet or walked right one.

'You call it a he, why?' Her eyes showed genuine curiosity for a question he didn't know how to answer.

After a hesitation he shrugged shoulders, letting her continue; 'I didn't really like the pronoun guidelines either, but… I guess it's hard to think them human when you _know_ they're all wires and hydraulics inside.'

For her it was probably like working on a broken computer, clearing out all the dust for a customer, something _normal,_ something _regular_.

Looking at an Android and knowing exactly how it's moving all its fingers.

'It's got a weak point also, a sort of kink, in the back of its neck.'

Now _that_ properly got his attention. Connor, a high-tech Android designed to go up against Androids and humans of all types, designed for pursuit and attack, had a _flaw_ , and an obvious one at that.

'Why? CyberLife doesn't seem the type to overlook something so large.'

'They didn't overlook it, just made an unnecessary design choice by the looks of it. Connor, turn around.'

Connor did so without hesitation, no response or snarky refusal, Hank averted his eyes slightly, gone are the days of Connor insisting he only took orders from Hank himself it seemed.

She loosely placed her hand on top of his head, pushing it forwards slightly. Brushing her thumb up his neck pushing synthetic hair upwards.

Thirium was almost stained on her sleeve, layers and layers of evaporated thirium leaving blue marks.

'The shell plates don't interlock correctly, I thought it was a problem on our end, _our fixes_ , but nope, looked up the specifications and they just don't… _Interlock_. See?'

Pressing a thumb down and up into his nape the overlay retracted over the neck and shoulders. It was now completely open, his frame somehow seemed even smaller like this, standing shorter than both humans present.

Hank could barely keep his eyes forwards looking at him.

'Look. Even to an untrained eye that _can't_ look right. It's just _open_.'

He agreed.

What Hank knew to be a charge point was completely uncovered, wires running from the head to the rest of the body could be seen, pulled taut through the also open inner frame, and the joints of the neck unprotected.

'Why they chose a four-prong charger I really don't know and that's not the _only_ problem.'

Firmly she pushed Connor's head forwards and down, the white plates of his neck slid roughly over each other, slipping down and apart, leaving an even larger gap to the sides when Connor's head got to his chest.

'No wonder it moves so stiffly the whole setup around the shoulders and neck are made to act _against it_.'

She pushed up underneath a small lip on the upper plate, arrow and all, the whole plate easily sliding up with barely a sound. The lower was also pushed down much the same way, leaving Connor's entire neck exposed.

He could feel the air cooling around Connor, condensation collecting on the electrical and clear thirium wires.

'They didn't even mark it up to basic mechanical-fixture signs.' She muttered under her breath, clear that she wasn't going to elaborate further.

Running her nail down the interlocking spinal plates she explained, 'it looks fine with the overlay but as soon as it goes It's a mechanical _nightmare_. This is its spine, that gets damaged, the rest of it kaputs, it's not supposed to be like this it –'

'It's unprotected and it shouldn't be, yeah, I know basic Android anatomy, I'm _not_ an idiot.'

Scowling she pushed the pieces back into place again, curling her hand into Connors hair and pulling his head back up. The plates were once again forced into one another, pressing and almost bending before the higher snapped into place over the lower, the edges still grinding against it.

Hank decided he'd have enough time to quiz Connor on this later, what he wouldn't do was leave this woman pulling and pushing Connor around like this.

'You can let go of him now.'

The look in Hanks eyes made her pull away from the Android, his overlay redrawing itself over his neck.

He didn't turn back around.

Looking her dead in the eye when she spoke, 'it must have been _very_ unlucky to get hit _exactly_ where it's the weakest, by? What was it again? George never did finish that questionnaire.'

Hank gave a low sigh, 'he wasn't hit on accident and _no,_ I can't tell you more.'

'No, it's fine, I understand, I'm not about to dig my nose in places I don't belong. Have you signed everything?' she lazily tacked on a further, 'Connor you can turn around now.'

'Yeah, here.' He handed it over and she checked it quickly before flicking the screen and then shutting it down, probably sending it somewhere. The Department maybe?

'Now you and your Android have been nothing but trouble for me and this building. It's _not_ normal, it assaulted me, CyberLife screwed it up deliberately for _god knows_ what reason, there's something you're _not_ telling me, I _probably_ won't get to the bottom of it. But now, please, _leave_.' Without another word she turned on her heel away from them.

And so, he was left with Connor, and the realisation he'd been standing talking about him, like he wasn't even there. He _hadn't even questioned it._

Connor's face was still blank, looking just beyond Hank slightly upwards the eyelid still drooping and lagging when he blinked.

 _Every two seconds and on the third he'd blink twice._

Something inside him wanted to so desperately wrap his arms around Connor, hold on tight and to not let go. He quickly squashed that want.

He swallowed before telling Connor to follow him.

The Android did so without hesitation.

 _Almost_ like normal.

The front doors that led to the streets clearly showed the rain also. Puddles already forming and small rivers being washed away into the road drains and grates.

The rain pattered on.

Though the clock had said nine in the morning it certainly didn't feel it. The murky clouds overhead blocked out any light, the glowing signs of stores beyond as clear as when they had walked in last night.

Those stores were empty though, and the road almost dead, no cars or signs of headlights.

Not even his car anymore.

When it had been clear Connor wasn't going to come out when the employee had said he'd moved his car off the opposite pavement to the actual small parking lot of the walk-in.

It's not like he'd brought an umbrella or anything with him, so he simply stepped out into the rain with Connor, the automatic doors closing and sealing behind them.

The lip of the building will cover them both for a bit until they got the parking area at the side of the Walk-In. No rush.

'She's right you know.'

Hank startled slightly at the words, it'd been the first time he'd heard Connor in a while.

'I'm _sorry_? She's right about what now?' Hank worried for a few seconds, maybe that had come out too aggressive? But he quickly pushed his worry aside when Connor responded.

'You shouldn't use male pronouns for me. I'm not male, I don't have any male genitalia.'

That was a new one, not exactly a surprise to Hank though, 'Yeah, well, you look male enough to me, doesn't matter if you have a dick or not Jesus Christ, and I can't just call you an "it".'

'You called me that before with no problem, why have you changed?'

Why had he changed?

Hank didn't know, it'd just sort of… Happened. One minute he was calling Connor an 'it' the next complaining that the CyberLife people had called him that. Fucking… Idiot.

' _Reasons_.'

'Is it because of Cole?'

Now, Hank had enough of listening to Connor, but instead of simply snapping at him he let out a breath and picked his words calmly, 'Cole has no place in this conversation, Connor.'

'I say Cole _does_ have a place in this conversion, _Hank_.'

He turned around, 'I don't want to fight about this in the street, wait until we get to the car.'

'No.'

'Now you're just being _fucking_ childish, _Connor_.'

'You're avoiding the question.'

'Yeah, because maybe it didn't occur to you I don't want to talk about my _dead son_.'

'Well, I do.'

'You're an Android you don't _want_ anything.' He ground out.

And Connor did that stupid _stupid_ lip twitch he – it always did when it was irritated. Good, getting underneath the stupid Androids skin, or overlay, _whatever_.

'I remind you of Cole. That's the only reason you've put up with me, am I right?'

'Connor I'm not going to fucking argue with you on the side of the road, _give it up_.'

Connor only pressed further, eyes narrowing, 'It is isn't it? You don't really like _me_ , you liked _Cole_. You're just _making_ me act as his _replacement_.'

'I'm not making you do _anything_ Connor.'

'Implying that you _are_ _using_ me as a replacement for your son, ignoring guidelines like this.'

'I don't care about fucking guidelines, Connor, Shut the fuck up!'

'This is only proving my point, Lieutenant. You never did get over your _poor_ child's death did yo-'

Connor feet almost left the ground as Hank grabbed his uniforms collar, dragging him forwards and up.

Connor stumbled along with the action bring up his hands to brace on Hank himself, trying to push away, but only being yanked forwards further.

'Don't you _fucking dare_ , talk about Cole like that. You don't even get to say his fucking name you plastic _piece of shit_.'

It was almost instant, the way Connors now bright and emotionful eyes blanked right in front of him.

Turning glassy and almost rolling up.

'Please refrain from touching CyberLife property, Lieutenant.'

Loosening his grip Connor slid easily from him, not even giving him a second look as he went through obviously scripted checks to himself and his uniform.

Hair, face, shoulders, sleeves, tie.

 _This wasn't Connor._

Hank stood feeling like he was staring into nothingness, letting the rain patter down on him, the two of them somehow moving out of the buildings lip in their argument, soaking them both through even more.

Plastic synthetic hair turning shiny but staying the same.

He turned and started towards the parking lot calling out behind him, 'If you're not at the car by the time I start it up I'm leaving without you.'

 _Too fucking kind to that_ _ **fucking Android**_ _for his own good._

* * *

This was supposed to go up days ago but my nerves got the better of me when editing it, I just couldn't get it right and I still don't like really like it, sorry.

Why did Hank get pissed about Connor and Cole when he didn't in actual canon? Well in canon Hank had finally taken the steps to seal over the wound and realise it wasn't the Androids fault. Here, he hasn't, it's still a festering cut that Connors poking.

Also, Vex dragged me into Borderlands so maybe possibly expect a short Borderland fic soon oof


End file.
